


god is officially dead and we killed him

by camphor (whatever_forever)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Bottom Will, Choking, Established Relationship, Kinda, Light D/s, M/M, Praise Kink, Snark, Teasing, Theyre not, Top Hannibal, being horny as two psychologically disturbed rabbits for each other, idk what else to say about this? it's cannibal sex, jesus christ did i really just write a smutty fanfic for a show that ended five years ago, running from the law <3, so much snark and teasing, they both think theyre funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28375158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatever_forever/pseuds/camphor
Summary: "It had gotten worse. He’d said things he’d later regretted. But now, tied down to their bed, he was thinking mostly of something Hannibal had said.'You don’t know, do you? What your friend from the hospital did to me when you asked him to kill me. I’d like to show you someday.'Will stifled a shudder at the thought. He didn’t think 'someday' would come so soon.And he certainly hadn’t thought Hannibal would be demonstrating on him."Hannibal ties Will to their bed and gives him a little taste of what happened to him when Will tried to murder him by proxy. Except it involves a lot less "attempted murder" and a lot more sex.  yeah <3
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 64





	god is officially dead and we killed him

Will isn’t sure how he wound up here, but he’s sure it's his fault.

This was supposed to be a quiet night. Neither he nor Hannibal had killed anyone in weeks, and while before Will would have worried about Hannibal getting antsy about when the next one would be, this time it seemed there was a strange peace between them. They’d spent the past few nights being almost sickeningly normal: making dinner together with the radio on, watching the  _ National Geographic  _ channel while curled up on the couch, having a singular glass of wine each and falling asleep embarrassingly early. He thinks about Tuesday night, how he got tipsy off a shot and a half of whiskey and nearly dozed off with his head in Hannibal’s lap to the sounds of a nature documentary while somehow still finding a way to argue with him about it. 

_ “Really, Will? This is what’s taking up so much space on the DVR?” _

_ “Shut up and look at the nice giant squid footage.” _

There was a momentary pause as Hannibal considered it.  _ “It’s very fucked-up looking.” _

Will snorted. “ _ God, wouldn’t you know.” _

Hannibal exhaled, which Will knew meant he agreed but wasn’t going to say so out loud, and then there was the feeling of fingers running through his hair, and then he closed his eyes. Somehow, the next morning, he woke up in bed, Hannibal already up and in the shower, and he took a minute to pause and wonder how he felt about all this.

It was a departure, certainly. The first few months of being on the run together had been a constant whirlwind of motel rooms and remote locations, nervous sweats and half-spoken-half-breathed plans made in the middle of the night. He hadn’t pictured the first time they’d have sex to be in a shitty motel room in Western Arizona— mostly because he  _ hadn’t  _ pictured them having sex, at least not until after the Fall. Learning that it was something Hannibal had thought about way before then was… not shocking, but maybe a little arresting, like he should have put those dots together way sooner. 

And now, in this cabin way out in the middle of nowhere where they eventually found themselves sticking around for longer than a minute, he thinks there probably isn’t a single piece of furniture they haven’t done it on. Does the laundry hamper count? He’s not sure how that would even work.

But right now, he’s in bed. With no clothes on. He vaguely remembers Hannibal drawing him in for a kiss while unbuttoning his shirt, catching Will’s wrist in his hand when he went for Hannibal’s zipper. “ _ Let me do this,”  _ he had murmured, and the next thing Will knew he was being pushed onto the bed.

Will tugs at the ropes binding his wrists to either side of the headboard, and then closes his eyes, remembering the argument they’d had a few weeks ago. The one that had ended with Will leaving at midnight to take a walk in the woods and Hannibal doing God-knows-what without him, but when he came back early the next morning the man was waiting for him at the kitchen table, doing the crossword from yesterday’s paper, watching the door and looking like he hadn’t slept all night. Will remembered swelling with guilt and kissing his cheek when Hannibal stood up to greet him, and they’d fallen asleep together and wasted that entire day like that.

He’d pushed everything they’d said during the fight so far from his mind after that, and now it was all coming back.

“ _ I don’t like it when you look at me like that.” _

_ “I’m not looking at you like anything, Will.” _

_ “Yes, you are. That’s the same way you looked at me that first time you visited me at the hospital.” _

Hannibal had tensed, turning himself away. “ _ I was just smiling at you.” _

_ “Well, stop. Stop it.” _

_ “If we’re taking this time to tell each other what we don’t like, then I’ll go next. I don’t like it when you get like this.” _

_ “Like what?” _

_ “Like you’re angry with me but won’t say what you’re angry about.” _

Will hadn’t been able to stop himself from laughing. “ _ I have so much to be angry about.” _

Hannibal had turned back around then, and stared him down. “ _ Likewise.” _

It had gotten worse. He’d said things he’d later regretted. But now, tied down to their bed, he was thinking mostly of something Hannibal had said.

“ _ You don’t know, do you? What your friend from the hospital did to me when you asked him to kill me. I’d like to show you someday.” _

Will stifled a shudder at the thought. He didn’t think “someday” would come so soon.

And he certainly hadn’t thought Hannibal would be demonstrating on  _ him. _

__

Now, he tilts his head and sees Hannibal where he wasn’t before, in a chair beside him, fully clothed in one of his suits and gazing at Will with a strong consideration. “I’m being very nice to you, Will,” he says, standing up and coming over to stroke Will’s face, a heavy softness in his eyes that makes Will want to apologize over and over, but he holds his tongue. “The way your friend did it was much more uncomfortable. It involved a bucket and a noose.”

Will lets out a ragged breath, trying to picture it. “You told me he crucified you.”

Hannibal smooths the hair from Will’s face. “Almost. There were no nails in my hands or feet.”

“Lucky you,” Will breathes, staring up at Hannibal. “Is that what this is? A crucifixion?”

Hannibal lets out a small laugh, stroking Will’s cheek again. “You’ll notice I left your legs untied.”

“I thought maybe that was an accident,” Will murmurs. “An oversight.”

“Quite the oversight,” Hannibal says before leaning in to kiss Will, keeping one hand on his face. “I imagine if they left Jesus hanging by his arms like that it would have been awkward.”

Will laughs too then, straining at his bonds, aching to wrap his arms around Hannibal and pull him on top of him. Hannibal gently catches his wrists,  _ tsking  _ under his breath as he climbs onto the bed, straddling Will so he has one knee on either side of him. “Watch yourself, darling. You don’t get the use of your hands here.”

“Are you going to cut my arms open?” Will asks, his head getting a little dazed at the thought. “I’ve seen your scars, you know. I know he did that to you.”

Hannibal gazes back at him, a hand snaking up to Will’s chest, resting there for a moment before he teases a nipple and Will gasps. “I haven’t decided yet,” he admits. Will closes his eyes and rests their foreheads together, and Hannibal closes the distance between them into another kiss. He puts two hands on Will’s face to hold him steady, laughs a little into his mouth as he bites Will’s lip and feels him underneath, his arms jerking against his bonds. “You’re going to take whatever I give you,” he says, pressing a kiss to the corner of Will’s mouth. “You aren’t going to resist it.”

“What lesson am I supposed to be learning here?” Will asks, then gasps again as Hannibal begins to kiss his way down his shoulder, finding his chest again.

“No lesson,” Hannibal breathes, letting him feel his teeth on an already overstimulated nipple, enjoying the groan that resulted from it. “Just doing something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time.”

And then Hannibal is kissing his neck, and he’s groaning louder and wishing,  _ desperately  _ wishing his hands were free so he could wrap his arms around Hannibal’s shoulder and bury his fingers in his hair and let him know that  _ yes, this was a good idea  _ and  _ God, I love it when you do that.  _ He doesn’t need to look to know what’s happening at the sound of Hannibal undoing the fly on his pants, at the feeling of Hannibal positioning Will’s legs apart the way he wants him, at the sensation of first fingers and then a cock opening him up. The other times they’ve done this, Will pressed his nails deep into Hannibal’s back, leaving scratch marks that drew blood and didn’t heal for days. He regrets not being able to do that now, that the only thing he can do is pant and moan into the crook of Hannibal’s neck, letting him know vocally how much this affects him, how badly he wants it all to happen.

“You’re such a sweetheart,” Hannibal says into his ear, pushing particularly hard into him. “Indulging me like this.”

Will rolls his eyes as hard as he can, sucking in a breath at the pressure inside of him, wanting to scream at the feeling but holding it back. “You’re a dick.”

“ _ Wouldn’t you know _ ,” Hannibal echoes, sounding far too pleased with himself, and if Will had the use of his hands he’s sure he would smack him.

“Right there,” he says instead, letting Hannibal have more of what he wants, giving in to the sensation as Hannibal drives hard into a sensitive part of him. “God, fuck— you’re insane, you know that?”

“If you’re going to be rude, you’re going to lose your talking privileges, Will,” Hannibal says, drawing back for a moment to press a hand to Will’s neck.

Will feels his eyes widen as he looks up at Hannibal, whose two strong, veined hands are now clamping down on his throat.  _ A noose and a bucket,  _ he remembers, starting to choke as Hannibal moves into him again. Tears spring at his eyes, and he splutters again as Hannibal’s fingers press around him harder. He tenses his arms until he can’t anymore, light dizziness filling his skull until his wrists go limp in their bonds. His vision wavers as he meets Hannibal’s eyes, sees how drunk with fascination and something else, something more gentle and admiring the other man looks, and he stops struggling. 

Through hazy eyes, he sees Hannibal pull his hands away from his throat, gasps for air as the pressure there is let up. Then those hands are back to stroking his face, petting his hair, that mouth pressing kisses to his forehead, moving easier and gentler inside of him. “I knew you could be good,” Hannibal teases, kissing his slack mouth, finally wrapping a hand around Will’s neglected cock, red and upright in between them. “I knew I could make you listen to me.”

Will closes his eyes, realizing that Hannibal is now making a point to hit him  _ just there.  _ “I’m close,” he warns him quietly as his orgasm begins to build. 

“Not until I say so,” Hannibal chides, pressing another kiss to his ear. Will nods, and with another few thrusts Hannibal has spilled himself inside of him and murmured the go-ahead for Will to do the same.

It leaves a sticky mess on Will’s stomach so that Hannibal insists on taking the rest of his suit off and wiping him down with a tissue before climbing back on top of him and laying his head on his chest. “Thank you for letting me have that, Will. It was really very kind of you.”

Will is almost too exhausted to respond to the teasing, his body still heaving up and down despite being forced into non-motion. He turns his head towards Hannibal, sees his contented smile and frowns back at him. “Are you gonna let me out yet, asswipe?”

Hannibal chuckles into his skin. “Despite my best efforts, I can’t change you even for five minutes.”

Will snorts. “Yet for some reason you like me a little bit, I think.”

Hannibal exhales once again, but Will already knows he agrees. He watches as the other man pushes himself up on one arm and sets to work untying Will’s wrist, first one, then the other.

As soon as he is able, Will does what he’s been hungering to do all night long. He wraps his arms around Hannibal, pulling him close, pressing their mouths and bodies together with all the force and tenderness he has left in him.


End file.
